


Getting to Know You

by gatekat, Starsheild (StarRise)



Series: From the Shadows ... Into the Light [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pre-War, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarRise/pseuds/Starsheild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuity Mashup. Jazz/Prowl<br/>Jazz and Prowl are both mechlings from merchant families, but their lives couldn't be more different when they meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting to Know You

The trade show was in full swing, with mecha milling here and there and merchants peddling their wares and various traders making deals between themselves, some personal and some business but all with the intent to profit.

Prowl wandered through the show, sharp optics taking all of the activity before noticing a very animated exchange going on between a slender blue and black mech that he had never seen before and a merchant that his family did business with on a regular basis. The newcomer seemed to be charming Swingscale with ease, the merchant laughing at the something the small mech said, and the newcomer's rich blue visor flashing in return before the pair shook hands and a chip was exchanged.

With another friendly nod the newcomer subspaced the information chip and set off again, wandering slowly along and scanning the show with easy interest.

Just being a new face was reason enough for Prowl to shadow the non-Praxian for a while as he moved on to chat up a small group with an ease that Prowl envied. Even at his best, small talk and social niceties were hard for him. The cold, crisp cleanness of numbers and the hard, pointed drive of a final negotiation were what Prowl was good at. Very, very good.

But talking, just talking? One two-panel sensor wing twitched.

A database query provided the designation and background of the newcomer. A mechling like himself, though a few vorns younger. The current youngest creation of a trading family out of Kaon.

No matter how bad an idea it was to get involved with a Kaonite, he wanted to get closer to this socialite mechling. He wanted to just be close to someone with that much positive energy on display. He needed it right now.

When Jazz drifted away from the group, Prowl moved closer. "I haven't seen you here before."

The blue and black mech turned a brilliant smile on Prowl. "That would probably be because I've never been to this show before. First time for everything." His helm tilted to the side. "I'm Jazz. And you are?" While he already _knew_ who Prowl was from the database, there was only so much that a computer could tell, and so much more that one could learn when the subject was standing in front of you.

"Prowl," he gave his full, formal designation as had been drilled into him by his carrier. "Are you here just to make contacts?"

"Yup." That same smile remained in place as Jazz adjusted his pace to accommodate his new conversation companion. "Been having some very good luck. My uncle will be pleased, I think."

"A good first outing then," Prowl smiled, but even at the best of times he felt his false smile was a terrible, obvious thing. "It bodes well for being let out again."

"So why are you here?" Jazz asked as they walked along. The mechling was constantly aware of everything that was going on around him while at the same time making his companion feel like most of his attention was still centered on the Praxian.

"To examine the new goods and negotiate for any we can trade now," Prowl responded, trying to hide his relief at being asked questions.

"What sort of things do you trade in?" Jazz asked, keeping to business for the moment, sensing that this line of questioning was something that the other mechling found easy.

"High-end textiles, decorative armor, limited edition statuary and off world manufactured imports primarily, though we often fill requests for all manner of items," Prowl relaxed fractionally as they walked and looked at the offerings on display. "Our stock varies greatly vorn to vorn."

"Ah. How often do you trade in statuary? My uncle collects and deals in art." Jazz informed him as he stopped to look at a collection of paintings.

"We have a shifting stock of a couple dozen lines at any given time," Prowl said easily as the conversation shifted into what he really understood. "Generally whatever is new from popular and up and coming sculptors that favor the Praxian aesthetic."

"Ah. My uncle favors the Iaconian style more. A moment?" He asked, flashing another smile at Prowl as he proceeded to strike up a conversation with the dealer, quickly extracting from the mecha that he was also the artist and exchanging contact information.

After another moment Jazz selected a very small piece and got a good deal on it before tucking it away in subspace and turned his attention back to Prowl. "Shall we move on?"

"Of course," Prowl nodded, privately blown away by the ease at with Jazz socialized. It reminded him entirely too much of his carrier, and his younger brother. They all found it so easy, so natural. Prowl took after his sire, but with far more advanced logic and tactical processors, he found the social aspects of the business far more difficult.

"I'm partial to art myself, though my interests run more towards music." Jazz informed him as they continued on their way.

"What kind of music?" Prowl asked, just to continue the conversation. He was all too aware of his tin audio when it came to the subject, though he was told he had an excellent voice once he'd learned a part on key.

"Upbeat dance type." Jazz smiled. "I _know_ the classics, but that doesn't necessarily mean I _like_ them as well. Not a lot to sing to, for starters."

"That would depend on the region, time and genre of classical," Prowl said, then caught himself. "Some of them do focus heavily on vocals."

The other mech's visor lit up. "You have a music background? What sorts do you favor?"

"It's expected of my status but I have very little talent," Prowl shied away from the subject, knowing he'd make a fool of himself if the conversation went very far. "I do enjoy listening to adagio, cantabile and cantata compositions. Settlebeat, Consonance and most of what is written for Primus."

"Every performer needs an audience." His companion said agreeably, recognizing the attempt to move topics and accommodating the transition. "So what sort of recreation hobbies do you enjoy?"

Prowl actually froze for a nanoklik as his wings gave a twitch. He'd very abruptly been reminded why he hated socializing so much. He had next to nothing in common with his peers, or even his creator's peers, and talking about himself was exquisitely uncomfortable on a level he didn't fully grasp but knew wasn't normal.

"My brother is the social one," he said quietly. "I enjoy working with numbers; accounting, inventory, predicting what will sell."

But the other merely nodded. "So how do you go about following the markets and figuring out what will sell? Numbers again?"

"Everything can be distilled into numbers; percentages, ratios and odds," Prowl nodded, relaxing once more and even a little excited by a subject he genuinely did enjoy delving into. "From there it is a simple matter to determine the patterns and predict accurately based on the data. I have doubled my family wealth already based on taking my sire's principles to the next level and simplifying them. He had the right idea, but never took it far enough."

Jazz laughed, though there was not a hint of mocking in the sound. Instead it was the sound of someone who was happy that his companion was happy. "It sounds like it is something that you do like, and something that you have figured out. But that's still _work_ to me. Do you do anything to relax?"

"Hot oil soak," Prowl responded after a pause to kick himself out of numbers mode. He knew he should be more wary. Knew he was being played. No mecha acted like this for real. It just felt too good not to be laughed at, to have attention paid to him and not his work not to want more.

"Ohhhh...good idea." The other mech agreed. It wasn't something that Jazz got to indulge in often, but he certainly appreciated it when he got to enjoy it. "Sounds like you have relaxing figured out as well."

"Enough to make sure there is one in my room here," he let the offer hang unspoken, unwilling to make it real lest it, and he, be rejected outright.

Jazz went silent for a moment as he checked the time then looked at his companion. "I've never been here before, but I'm starting to get hungry. Any idea where is a good place to refuel around here?"

"Several," Prowl nodded, falling back into habits that made him comfortable; dealing with facts. "What are you interested in?"

"Some place where we can sit down and chat over a nice meal." Jazz said. "Your choice of what though. There isn't much I don't like, and I am always up for trying new things."

A quick database query produced what cities Jazz had traveled to and what was generally available in Kaon if you cared to spend the credits. It also turned up a good baseline of what likely qualified as 'nice' for a mid-ranked Kaonite merchant. It was close enough to his own preferences that Prowl felt reasonably confident in selecting one of his favored places nearby.

He motioned Jazz to follow with a nervous smile. "Have you ever tried Rust Sea cuisine?"

"Nope, but I'm game. Lead the way." Jazz said with a small bow and wave of his hand.

Prowl gave a small, genuine smile of amusement before his features slid to their default stern neutrality. "It tends to be acidic and spicy, with lots of crunch."

"That sounds delightful, especially in your company." The slender mech responded, offering Prowl his arm playfully. "So shall we?"

Prowl was a little taken aback and confused by the move, but drilled-in manners had him take it as he showed Jazz outside the convention tower and onto the road. "The Singing Crystal is three and a half blocks north," he motioned to the direction they needed to go before stepping into the transformation lane and settling on his tires. He waited for Jazz to transform, then pulled into the heavy mid-day traffic of central Iacon.

The slender mech transformed, folding into a sleek sport alt that screamed of speed and slipped into the traffic behind his guide and lunch partner. It gave him a lovely view of the larger, heavier alt's aft end, one designed for power as much as speed, and with an aesthetic very different from anything seen in Kaon. It also gave him a good look at how controlled Prowl was in this heavy traffic. It made Jazz all the more sure that the cool, focused nature he had assessed while talking was accurate.

It made him just as sure that Prowl was not a happy mech. Not in ways that really counted. He recognized the emotional hurt being covered up. It was a familiar one. It was something that was enough to catch Jazz's interest, especially as he prodded a little deeper into the public records that were available on his lunch date. It also slid several more recent observations into a clearer light.

When Prowl pulled into the transformation lane and stood up, Jazz followed. All of that was smoothly covered up as he stepped up beside Prowl as they entered the restaurant and were shown to a small table. "Tell me more about your family? I know you mentioned your brother."

Prowl didn't even bother looking at the menu he was handed, and he seemed relatively at ease here. "We've been merchants for seven generations, including mine. We've always divided up the aspects of the business based on skills. I'm best at handling inventory and hard negotiations. My brother is the social one. He's very good at the soft sale and making friends, but he doesn't have quite the processor for the tough end of things that sire and I do."

"A good business partner for you then." Jazz commented as he looked over the menu, debating between several entrees that appealed to his tastes from their descriptions alone.

"It's always arranged that way," Prowl nodded. "Either a sibling or mate will be the social one, occasionally both, but that that's been rare. The Zarita Mattri is particularly good here, as long as you enjoy spice."

Jazz glanced at the item on the menu, humming softly as he considered before nodding agreement, willing to give it a try. "That sounds good. This is my first trade show. Uncle finally decided that he would give me a chance. He has been pleased so far."

"That's always good," Prowl happily picked up the subject as he pinged their order in. "Did he give you anything to focus on?"

"Artwork that we might be able to acquire and trade, part of the reason I went ahead and purchased that painting earlier. And any trade contacts that I think might be of benefit to him. Where I am most useful in the grand scheme of things is still being discussed." Jazz replied.

"So he's testing out your skills," Prow nodded his understanding. "Are you enjoying the show so far?"

"Very much so." A ripple of excitement passed through Jazz's field at the mention of the show, a true indication of just how intriguing and fun Jazz found the whole thing. "If I do well here he might let me start coming along as a regular thing."

"Then we may see each other again," Prowl managed a small smile, pausing as their meals arrived. His was a simple cube, effervescent and the rich color of strong midgrade with heavy additives. Jazz's was a plate of various solids and a cube of light, effervescent midgrade. "I currently attend all but three trade shows most vorns; Kaon, Tarn and Hive City. My sire does not consider the territories safe enough for me to travel alone, so his older brother handles them."

"Those are not heavily attended by anyone but residents, from what I understand." Jazz said as he tasted his meal and hummed in pleasure. "You were right. This is excellent. I will have to remember this."

"Good," Prowl really did smile, though it was only a small twitch of his lips and sensor wings.

Jazz attention turned to Prowl's meal. "What did you order?"

"Attiquim," Prowl named it. "A spiced low-potency high grade. It's too acidic for most, but I enjoy it."

Jazz took the liberty of leaning over just far enough to catch a whiff of what the other mech was consuming and forced himself not to let his features wrinkle in distaste at a smell close to battery acid mixed with incendiary level spice. "I think that I will be one of those who will leave you to enjoy that without testing it myself."

He took several more bites of his meal, taking care to mix the solids with the sauce appropriately before speaking again. "So are you the one in line to inherit the business, or are there others?"

"I am in line to inherit," Prowl confirmed. "My brother will own a silent share. He inherits rights to a portion of the income, but he will not be a decision-maker."

"A good compromise." Jazz said quietly. "I take it he is pleased with the arrangement?"

"He has not expressed otherwise," Prowl confirmed. "I have my doubts he's thought about it yet. He only upgraded to mechling status six and a half vorns ago. He is not expected to be working yet. Our carrier is still tutoring him in the skills for being the social manager of the family."

"If he takes to that side of the business with as much as passion as you seem to have taken to yours I doubt there will be an issue." Jazz said.

"He does seem to enjoy it," Prowl agreed. "The formal aspects are a bit difficult for him still, but he is younger than you. I expect you would like him. You seem to have a similar social nature."

The same bright smile appeared at the compliment as Jazz set aside his empty platter and settled over his drink to learn a little more of his companion. "So out of all of the places you have visited, which is your favorite?"

"Outside of Praxus, I would have to say Vos," Prowl decided after he thought for a time. "It is the closest to Praxus by code and culture. At least I found their reputation for violence to be quite exaggerated."

"What was the most interesting thing you saw there?" Jazz asked, his entire field revealing that he really was interested in what Prowl had seen and done. There was an underlying hunger to learn, and curiosity centered on a mecha that had seen so much more than Jazz was and was willing to share.

The Praxian settled back in his chair and hummed as he reviewed all the amazing things in the city his ancestors came from in his processors, trying to pick out just one or two.

"I believe it would have been the Rite of the Storm Flight," he finally decided. "Every Seeker who can make it to Vos is aloft at once during the fiercest wind and electrical storm of the vorn. The sky was black from layer after layer of wings, the entire city in shadow, lit only by the reflection of its own lights down on it from all the frames above. I've only witnessed it twice, but to think they do so every vorn is amazing. Risking, some extinguishing, just to prove they are still stronger than the sky itself."

His companion's optics flashed as he tried to envision that, then Jazz simply shook his helm as he gave up. "Perhaps some day I can witness it for myself."

"If you do well and visit the trade show in Vos, you will have the opportunity," Prowl suggested. "They time several large events for the metacycle of the storms to make it easier for as many to come as possible. It also allows them to show off to the largest possible audience."

A small smile appeared at that. "I have heard that they are rather inclined to show off."

"They do," Prowl chuckled slightly. "Seekers are as flashy, arrogant, emotional and high-strung as their reputation would indicate, and twice as sensual in storm season after the Rite."

"Then I am sure that you get quite the show." Jazz replied, field taking on a slightly neutral tint before he got it under control again.

"It is," Prowl agreed as he cocked his helm and canted his wings curiously. "You find open sensuality disturbing?"

"Not as a general rule." Jazz responded, deflecting the inquiry slightly and hoping that his companion would not push too much deeper. Not now, while he was still enjoying being in the Praxian's company.

It was enough of an answer that Prowl simply nodded acceptance of it. "You may wish to stay in a hotel that caters to Praxians, Crystal Cityites, or business mecha. If you can afford it, any that are four stars or better will also generally be very discreet. Avoid any that cater to airframes no matter the rating."

"Thank you." Jazz purred softly as he relaxed once more, content after a good meal with a pleasant meal companion. A companion that he was finding more interesting the longer he spent in the Praxian's presence. There was something fascinating about the mech that Jazz hadn't been able to put a name too yet. "Do you have plans for the afternoon?"

"Continue working my way around the show until closing, then a meal and recharge," Prowl laid out a simple but very busy orn.

"Would you like company?" Jazz asked, not wanting to lose Prowl's company just yet. He saw surprise flicker across the Praxian features, but the field lightly touching his made it a look of pleasure.

"If it is yours," Prowl said shyly. "Yes, I would like company."

"I don't see any reason why I can't continue looking for my uncle and spend my afternoon with you." Jazz said, pleased at the sign that Prowl seemed interested in remaining in his company.

"We are doing the same thing," Prowl agreed. "Would you like a sweet before we head back?"

"If you would like to share one with me." Jazz smiled, field reaching out to just brush against the edge of Prowl's as the Praxian considered it.

"I would," Prowl nodded after a moment and signaled the waiter for a dessert menu. "How sweet do you like?"

"I'm not sure there exists a sweet tolerance worse than mine." Jazz said, visor lighting in amusement. "And I am very partial to rust coated anything. My carrier...my carrier used to tease that I would eat construction scrap with enough rust coating on it."

Prowl nodded, his field flickering with sympathy at what he was sure Jazz had lost. "The Atelixi?"

"Sounds good," Jazz said agreeably after a glance at the description. It wasn't all that sweet, not by his standards, but the rust was heavy and he got a distinct feeling that it was sweeter than Prowl typically chose.

"If you were ordering for yourself, what would you have chosen?" Jazz asked after the order had been placed and the server had departed.

"The cattari," Prowl said easily. "My preferences run far more bitter and savory than you, and most everyone else I have met."

"Nothing wrong with that." Jazz answered easily, filing the information away for later use. Or at least the hope that he would have reason to use it later.

"Does your love of sweets run in the family?" Prowl tried for an easy subject.

There was a small, sad smile on Jazz's face as he answered. "It is much in line with my carrier's. It probably did not help that she spoiled me shamelessly in this when no one else was looking. There was a time when I was very small that I snuck into the kitchen pantry and got into the rust powder coating. Our cook found me sitting in the middle of a mess licking it off my hands. They both laughed at me before she swept me off to clean me up."

There was a pause before he continued. "After that the cook was constantly on the lookout for me. But any time I wandered in there was usually a small treat waiting for me to take as I was herded back out the door."

"You sound a lot like my brother," Prowl smiled faintly at the story. "Though I'm not sure he was quite so discriminate about what he got into. By the time he stopped sneaking treats from the pantry he was sneaking regular energon for the strays he's always bringing home."

"Sounds like he has a big spark." Jazz murmured.

"Yes," Prowl agreed thoughtfully. "I believe he does. It is another good reason to keep his access to the business accounts limited. He does not have the self-control needed to maintain the credit flow for a healthy trade business."

"A very good point." Jazz agreed, secretly admiring the first insights to Prowl's ability to balance family and business and, he suspected, keep both sides happy. They both paused as a confection was brought out. A crust of pressed rust held in jellied jet highgrade energon and was dusted with silicon, copper and silver.

Prowl offered Jazz the first bite.

Jazz leaned over, taking the bite delicately and melting into a soft purring lump of mech at the sort of treat that he had not experienced in a long time. He quickly found the plate pushed a bit closer to him, though Prowl did dip a utensil into the filling to claim a taste. Jazz took another small bite, savoring it slowly and allowing the pleasure to bleed into his field for his companion to feel as well.

"You don't get many treats anymore, do you?" Prowl asked softly.

The slender mech stuttered for just a moment on his next bite, smoothly moving the dish closer to Prowl before speaking. "My Uncle took over the family business when my creators passed. Things have been rather tight lately."

"They seem to be improving," Prowl offered. "It seems a rather extreme measure to take given the decrease was not that severe."

"Uncle decided that initial drastic measures were the best option. He has been relaxing things recently." Jazz said, trying to explain things away before Prowl pushed too deep.

Prowl nodded. He did not agree, but it was not his place to question the choices of a business in another city. He did not have all the facts. Instead he took another mouthful of the filling. "Go ahead and finish it," he nudged it towards Jazz. "You're enjoying the treat more than I am."

"Please help yourself to any more that you want." Jazz offered, even as he dug into the treat once more, allowing the ripple of pleasure to cover the darker emotions he was feeling so he didn't have to concentrate on blocking them.

"I will," Prowl promised as he relaxed in the chair to watch, and feel, the other mech's pleasure. It was nice, very nice. It reminded him of the welcome attention he was paid when a mech wanted his company.

He promptly shut that line of thought down before it went to pain that was a little too fresh. Still, if Jazz was this easy to bribe into feeling good, maybe there would be more to come. He'd make sure to have _real_ sweets, the kind his brother liked but with plenty of rust, if Jazz came over for the hot oil soak.

"So are you looking for anything specific at the show this afternoon?" Jazz asked as he worked his way through the treat.

"Not really," Prowl admitted. "I'm here to check out new products primarily. I'm not the one that does the soft contacts. That's for my cousin, Smokescreen. You'll likely cross paths with him eventually."

"That could be interesting." Jazz said with a smile, settling down to finish the off the treat so that they could back to show.

"He usually is," Prowl agreed with a slight smile.

* * *

With a content sigh the slender blue and black mech slid deeper into the hot oil, frame going lax as the smooth liquid rose to his chin and suffused his entire frame. Nearby was still most of a plate of energon sweets, all of them to Jazz's taste, the flavor of which were still lingering on his glossa. Also nearby was his companion, the Praxian he had spent most of the orn with and in whose suite he was now relaxing.

Jazz was sure he knew the price that Prowl was going to demand for his attention and companionship. But if an interface was the price for being in the company of someone who at least acted like Jazz was interesting and they wished to be around him for who he was, it was a price he was willing pay.

Across from him Prowl was genuinely smiling, a look of relaxed pleasure. His meal had gone down smoothly, a grade a bit stronger than he usually had at the end of the orn. He expected he'd need it however. He knew he was poor company on his best orns, and less than a metacycle after being left by his latest lover, he was not having many good orns. Yet Jazz was tolerating him, his social failings and his general inclination not to talk unless it was business or he was prompted.

It was entirely too nice to be paid attention to like this for him to care if it was just an excuse to get in his berth. He'd paid for berthmates, he wasn't adverse to being paid for the use of his frame. His price just didn't tend to be in credits, and the offers usually came when he was out of Praxus or Vos and his sensor wings were enough to turn helms.

The oil in the pool rippled as Jazz shifted around, drifting closer so that more of his field touched Prowl's, sharing the relaxed contentment that filled the other mech and feeling it in return.

Prowl's field held a flicker of nervousness before the mech spoke. "Will you be spending the night?" he asked softly.

Something in both Prowl's tone and field felt off to Jazz, but he couldn't place what. Jazz's visor flickered, focusing on his companion as he tried to sort through what he was picking up from Prowl and the minor panic that was racing through him.

"I can't." He finally managed, though there was a note of regret in the answer. "My uncle would be furious."

Surprise and confusion were the last things he expected, but they were clear in Prowl's field. "You ... my apologies," Prowl quickly backpedaled even as he became more confused. "I assumed you would expect to. How late is safe for you?"

There was no hiding the matching surprise in Jazz's field. "I...had assumed the same." He checked the time. "I have several more joors, unless he calls for me sooner." Jazz shifted in the pool, rising a little as he kept a wary gaze on his companion. "Though I can go now..."

"Wait," Prowl reached out, desperate to prevent his social inadequacies from ending the evening like this. "I'd like you to stay. I like your company."

Slowly Jazz sank back down into the pool, field reaching out to cautiously brush once more against Prowl's as he looked for truth to back up what he was hearing and he found it. "I have enjoyed your company this orn as well. I would like to stay a little longer...no cost?"

"No cost," Prowl promised. "You ... like ... my company?"

"Or course." Jazz's helm tilted to the slide as he studied his companion from across the pool. "You are interesting. Pleasant to be around." And quite honestly different from anyone Jazz had ever met. Cool and calculating he knew well. But while many had those skills, Jazz had never met someone who seemed to have the warmth and passion underneath to make them more than a machine that Jazz thought he saw in Prowl.

"Forgive my reaction. I haven't heard that from anyone who wasn't just trying to get me in a berth," Prowl admitted. "Even my creators are well aware of my lack of social graces, much to my carrier's chagrin."

"Sometimes honest is a nice change." Jazz commented gently as he settled the rest of the way into the oil bath once more, and once more close enough for his field to remain in constant contact with Prowl's. "There is no wrong to forgive."

"Honest I can do," Prowl smiled shyly as his field warmed and relaxed. "Why would your uncle object to you spending the night in another room?"

"This is my first time out. He doesn't trust me to be careful enough yet." Jazz explained, glossing over it like it was not a big deal as he dared to slip a little farther into the warmth of that field.

"Careful enough?" Prowl frowned. "What trouble could you get into?"

Jazz chuckled softly. "Mostly he is worried about me saying or doing something that could compromise the business. I check in with him every so often, and I am supposed to return the family suite before the orn is out."

"Then we can enjoy the evening without any more talk of who owes who for their company," Prowl suggested shyly.

"I like that idea very much." Jazz responded, reaching over the edge of he pool to shift the two plates of confections within easy reach as he slid around close enough to physically touch the other mech and indulge in the quiet small talk they had been sharing all orn. At this range he felt Prowl relax like he hadn't before. Gratitude, enjoyment and a very deep pleasure suffused the Praxian's field and wove into Jazz's.

* * *

The show was busy even winding down as it was the next morning. Often there was little to be found as mecha were packing up to head home, but sometimes there were good deals to be had, if one could find a mech who was looking to make a final transaction before they departed or would rather break even on an item than haul it home and pay for more shipping.

Even if Jazz had to admit to himself that he was there more for the company of the mech walking beside him than for any business that might benefit his uncle. He would have to come up with something to prove that his final excursion had been beneficial to the elder mech, but Jazz would worry about that later.

If nothing else he still had that small picture tucked away in his subspace, and he had gotten a good deal on it. He'd continued to pick up contact and merchandise information from every vendor they crossed paths with.

"Well now, look who has company," a teasing voice, lighter than Prowl's but with the same accent, warned Prowl that his sire's older brother's creation was there a moment before the brightly painted Praxian draped himself over Prowl's shoulder.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Prowl grumbled without any real displeasure. Truth was he liked his cousin despite not understanding him at all.

"Nope," the brightly colored Praxian grinned shamelessly. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"

Prowl vented sharply. "Jazz, this is my sire's brother's creation, Smokescreen."

"Good to meet you," Smokescreen smoothly rolled from Prowl's shoulder to extend his hand to Jazz.

"And you." Jazz responded just as easily as he took the other mech's hand, friendliness radiating from every inch of the blue and black mech. "Prowl mentioned that he had other family running around here. Apparently I do get to meet some of them."

"Smokescreen would be mortified if I had met a mecha he hadn't," Prowl took in his cousin's apprizing look at Jazz and gave a faint subsonic rumble as his sensor wings flared, one reaching out to slap at Smokescreen's near sensor wing.

The brightly colored Praxian took a sideways step away from both Prowl and Jazz with a startled expression. A nanoklik later a slag-eating grin spread across his face. "Are you bringing him home then?" he purred.

"No," Prowl dropped his sensor wings to their normal position and shot Jazz an apologetic look.

There was a momentary flare of surprise and confusion in Jazz's field. Emotions that never reached the smile of amusement on his face as he looked between the two. "Unfortunately I have to go home. Though from what Prowl has told me of Praxus I do hope to be able to visit the city some orn."

"I'm sure you'll find a warm welcome when you do," Smokescreen gave his cousin a teasing grin before sauntering off.

"I am sorry," Prowl's expression went from apologetic to rather mortified. "I had no right to do that. I didn't think...."

"That your cousin would be that obnoxious?" Jazz finished, teasing. He was rewarded by relief washing through Prowl's field and features. After a moment a serious edge crept into Jazz's field, along with a great deal of hesitation as he pulled a datachip from his subspace and offered it to Prowl.

It was accepted with a shy smile and real delight as Prowl offered his in return. "I included all the shows and conventions I expect to attend in the next few vorns," he said, feeling rather daring and hopeful all at once. A small part of him was guarded, having been treated like this before and never heard from the mecha again, but he had to keep hoping that _eventually_ one of his efforts would be rewarded.

"I'll see how many of them I can convince my Uncle to let me attend." Jazz promised, everything about him screaming sincerity. "He seemed pleased with my work last night."

"I'm glad to hear that," Prowl's sensor wings rose slightly in excitement. "What can we do in these final joors to improve that impression?"

"He was complaining about the lack of good textiles available this time." Jazz said. "If I can bring him back a good source contact and a sample he'll probably be very happy."

"I know some that are here but didn't bring many textiles this vorn, or couldn't attend this vorn," he offered, willing to give that much to a potential rival to see Jazz again. "They aren't major manufacturers, but they do make a quality product we are willing to trade in."

"Contacts and digital samples would be fine." Jazz said, excitement flaring in his field, warring with something else as he continued. "And at least one of the orders would be small. My Uncle's bonded wishes to redecorate some of the main complex."

Prowl nodded and shifted into mission mode. His entire manner changed as he moved with purpose to get to his destination quickly. Despite that Prowl was still walking, Jazz nearly had to jog to keep up, and was amazed at how smoothly the crowd parted for Prowl like this. It would seem that his companion could have quite the commanding air when he wished, despite his age and status, and Jazz's hopes rose even more of actually being successful.

* * *

"You are sure?" Darksky asked, looking as his brother's creation as they waited for his oldest to arrive as his bonded hovered at his side.

"Without a doubt," Smokescreen nodded. "They exchanged personal information chips after I walked away. He was in Prowl's room two nights in a row, and with him most of the third and all of the final orn of the show. That wing-slap I got wasn't a light one either."

Starbright twitched slightly at that. "For him to be that possessive so soon after Prism leaving him...."

"We'll see what he has to say on the matter." Darksky said firmly as the door opened, admitting their creation.

Prowl froze at one look of the gathering. Smokescreen got a scowl, but his creators received a polite dip of his wings. "What is wrong?" he asked with typical bluntness.

"We were told that you made a friend at the trade show. Care to tell us about him?" Darksky asked, matching his creation's bluntness.

"I hope he will be a friend, yes," Prowl nodded. "Given Smokescreen's presence, I expect you know all about Jazz's file, family connections and my inappropriate response to Smokescreen's flirting. There is little to tell. I bought him a couple meals and we talked."

"You are aware then that his family is suspected of black market dealing and having ties to the crime world of Kaon?" His sire pushed, needing Prowl to see the possible consequences of this association.

Prowl completely deflated. "No, I did not have that information," he said quietly.

"How serious are you about him dear?" His carrier interrupted, casting a glance at her mate. If the new mech was only a rebound, a temporary thing, perhaps there was a chance they could let it play out on its own.

"We were only hoping to be friends," Prowl said quietly. "Interfacing isn't something either of us is that inclined to. Mecha who want to be around me and not just to get in my berth have not been common. I hoped he would be one."

That made both of his creators pause for a moment, considering this new angle. It was true that their creation did not have many friends, and as much as they feared the potential of Prowl being hurt they did not wish to deny him a friend if he had found one. It was true that Jazz was not an important member of his family, which minimalized the risk he presented to some degree.

"You intend to see him again?" Darksky finally asked.

Prowl paused, really considering it. "We made no firm plans. He did not know if he would be attending any more shows or conventions. If we cross paths again, yes, I would like to. It was very pleasant to simply relax with someone who did not want anything of me."

"You exchanged personal datachips," Smokescreen countered with a scowl. "You offered that to a potential _friend_?"

Prowl locked gazes with him. "I understand why you find it such a difficult idea to grasp, but yes, a potential friend is more valuable to me than a potential lover."

"What do you see in him?" Starbright asked her creation, soft optics focusing on Prowl and turning his attention from his cousin.

Prowl gave the question careful consideration. "A mech that is very much like Bluestreak," he eventually answered, cringing internally at the real truth; he'd seen a mech that might just become his mate. "He's intelligent, social, curious, well-educated and ... he likes my company. Which is enough right there to hold my attention for a few orns, even if he was too dumb to realize who I am. Only he knows, and he still treats me like I was just another mech he wanted to hang out with. It feels good, even if it's just for a few orns."

There was silence again as his creators considered and discussed between themselves. They could forbid Prowl to see the other mechling, knowing that their eldest was usually obedient and compliant to their wishes.

On the other side though, he was strong willed and intelligent, with a processor all his own. With a spark that was still hurting. Finally Darksky focused on his creation again.

"I will not try and define your relationship with him right now. I will ask that you be very careful in what you share with him. Even if he has no intention of harming you, intent is not always enough to keep someone safe."

"I understand, sire," Prowl canted his wings in full acceptance of the directive. "I will be careful. The business will not suffer because I gave him too much."

* * *

Ankmor Park was always one of Prowl's favored showed to attend. He liked the city's aesthetic, the balanced, harmonious feel of the people here, and the relatively low population density for a territorial capitol. This time he had another reason to be excited to attend. Excited and very nervous. Tonight could well be the last time Jazz spoke to him willingly. Yet that was a risk he had to take. He had to know, for himself, his family and his business, what Jazz wanted from him and what Jazz knew about his own family ties.

They'd spent the entire orn together, chatting, snacking and cruising the vendors. Both made the occasional purchases or arrangements and collected contact information in their very different ways. Jazz sweet talked and made the vendors like him to give him a deal. Prowl was stiff, all business, hard dealing and made them see a mech that could spread their goods into the very lucrative market that was Praxus.

Between them they were devastatingly effective and Prowl wasn't the only one who noticed.

By the time they retreated to Prowl's suite near closing for the orn they were both ready to settle in for a long soak, a good cube of energon and some treats.

Jazz's field where it touched his was bright and welcoming, and he smiled at Prowl as they entered the room, already looking forward to the soak and the company. "A productive orn." He commented.

"Very productive," Prowl agreed as led the way to the hot oil pool with their evening energon and treats waiting for them. "I do have some serious things we need to talk about before we relax too much."

He had Jazz's full attention in an instant, blue visor focused on Prowl as Jazz settled at the edge of the pool. "Yes?" He asked, without any of his normal levity.

Prowl sank into the hot oil and picked up his cube. He shut down most of his emotional center so he could focus completely on the truth of Jazz's words, and what wasn't said. "When I returned home after our encounter, I had two very upset creators to contend with thanks to my cousin. It seems he knows your family better than I did. There are potential issues with our association if he is to be believed."

Jazz went very still. "You would be referring to my uncle's black market dealings and underworld connections." He finally concluded softly.

"Yes," Prowl sighed, glad that Jazz was willing to come clean about it but unhappy that it was true. "My family is scrupulously clean of such connections. It would be an embarrassment for it to become common knowledge that I was not upholding the family standards."

Pain and sadness rippled through Jazz's field before the smaller mech could stop them. And for a moment the war that was being waged inside him was visible even to Prowl.

"He is very careful that there is never enough proof." He murmured finally before forcing himself to look up. "I guess...this is the last time I will see you, then."

"That would depend on how clean you are, and remain," Prowl said carefully, all too aware of the line he was treading. "I do have the right to choose my friends, few as they may be. As long as _you_ stay clean and visibly outside of the inner circle of your family, I have enough economic clout to willfully ignore what they may or may not be up to."

Jazz laughed softly, a bitter edge to the sound. "I will be whatever my uncle wants. But for now...he was pleased with my work in Iacon, and allowed me to come here. There is a good chance that I will remain on the visible side of the legitimate business. He has...few enough that he can trust with such things."

"So long as you are, we have no reason to avoid each other," Prowl said simply, motioning to the pool and Jazz's energon. "If he is as smart as he is reported to be, he will see the value in keeping you very clean, so as not to strain any connection you have developed with me. It is not inaccurate to say that I am a very valuable contact in Praxus and in general. My family's reputation is well known. It would be a disadvantage to him to have me publicly denounce our friendship. Never mind how much it would anger me."

"I can make no promises as to what he will do." Jazz warned softy as he finally allowed his frame to sink into the pool, his field starting to relax as the warmth spread through him despite the emotion tension still pulling at him. "But I promise to do my best to see that he continues to value my services where they are."

"That is all I ask," Prowl stated evenly. "I do understand where your control ends. This does mean that business, particularly my business, is not an acceptable subject of conversation. My creators are very concerned that we would be compromised if I told you too much, or allowed you to use my designation as a contact." He paused to sip his energon. "So long as we both respect those boundaries, there is no reason we can not remain friends."

The other mech nodded slowly, finally gathering his energon and starting to sip at it slowly, sinking farther into the warmth and a little closer to his friend. This had ended far better than he'd feared when it began, and the warmth, good energon and the honest relief in Prowl's field all made the rest of the evening look brighter.

* * *

Jazz wandered through the Gardens of Praxus, amazement and delight constantly flaring in his field for the mech walking with him to teek. After several vorns of meeting when they could at trade conventions, walking along like this with his field blended with Prowl's was comforting and almost second nature.

His presentation of the Praxian to his uncle as a valuable but fragile business contact, and all of the supposed reasons that made Prowl such, where what allowed him to continue to spend so much time in the Praxian's presence. It was a small bit of incomplete information that Jazz had no issues with perpetuating and Prowl was happy to encourage.

"This is amazing." He murmured again to his companion as he stopped to take in a crystal structure that dwarfed them both, reflecting the light in a multitude of colors as it stretched skyward in a complex double helix.

"It is," Prowl smiled at his friend and kept a careful check on the desire he had come to feel when Jazz was near. It wasn't physical attraction, he was well aware of what that felt like, but the desire to have this mech as his mate that was built on friendship, common ground, understanding and the gradual embrace of feeling safe with him. Knowing how much Jazz shied away from intimacy, Prowl had done his best to keep his feelings in check, though he knew he didn't always succeed. He had always been grateful when those slips did not seem to damage the friendship that Prowl valued far more than pleasure. "I am glad you could escape this long. It would be wrong for you to visit Praxus and not see the Helix Gardens."

"I'm thankful you have the time to show them to me. I wish I could stay longer." There was a note of longing in Jazz's voice and field, as well as a muted sense of something deeper.

"As do I," Prowl's desires flared to the surface before they were controlled once more. "Perhaps when you have your final upgrades you will be able to travel more freely."

Jazz's visor flickered. It was not the first time he had felt such desire from the Praxian, and quickly muted his own response. Prowl was intelligent, attractive, perfect, wealthy, powerful.

And completely out of Jazz's league.

"Going to show me the rest?" He prompted lightly, offering a smile to cover the moment.

"For as long as you can stay," Prowl struggled not to lean into that hint of responding desire from Jazz. He knew, without details, that his friend did not have a good history with interfacing and he didn't want to damage their friendship by pursuing the desires they both had. If Jazz wanted him, Jazz would have to make some move towards it first. He wouldn't hurt Jazz by acting like those who'd abused the younger mech.

That warm smile lit again, and with a wave Jazz signaled for him to lead the way.

They wandered that way until both had mostly lost track of time, and it was only when they reached the edge of the gardens that Jazz seemed to come back to reality with a start a moment of panic.

"We can get back without breaking too many traffic laws," Prowl reassured him as he led Jazz towards the nearest driving road.

The smaller mech stalled at the edge of the garden. "You don't have to take me back. I don't want you in trouble because I lost track of time."

There was a moment of hesitation that gave way to decision as Jazz pulled Prowl closer and reached up to find the Praxian's lips with his own.

Prowl's response died with that touch. A tremor raced down his frame as he reached to draw Jazz fully against him. He parted his lips to deepen the kiss with all the desire and passion he'd been holding back for nearly a vorn. A low moan escaped, his hands running down Jazz's back as his sensor wings spread fully and the three fingers separated and quivered in a display meant to attract his desired mate.

With the open acceptance and eager response the rest of Jazz's hesitation faded away as his frame melted against Prowl's as a multitude of emotions flickered through his field rapidly.

"Wow." He murmured, visor lighting as the kiss broke and he caught sight of the gloriously spread sensor wings.

Prowl leaned forward to capture Jazz's mouth once more, his frame all but burning with desire he knew there was no time to indulge in.

He found no resistance from the mech in his arms, Jazz trembling when they broke again and he finally found his voice. "Need to go." He whispered, though his field spoke of an entirely different desire.

"I know," Prowl trembled as he forced himself to let go, his field rich with how badly he wanted to keep Jazz close and his hands lingered as long as he dared. "When I see you next, we can try that again?"

"Yes." Complete agreement and a matching desire met his question as Jazz nuzzled him quickly before stepping back before they could get lost in another kiss. "I should be in Iacon again, in two metacycles."

"I'll be there," Prowl promised with a heavy vent before stepping into the transformation lane. "I will see you to the hotel."

* * *

Prowl gasped as his hand worked his spike, his frame close enough to overloading that little could stop it. His processors were on the touch and feel of Jazz, hot with desire in his arms as they'd kissed. Time was passing painfully slow. Two metacycles should have come and gone with barely a notice in his busy existence, but it seemed like every orn took ten and a vorn passed faster than this metacycle.

When his comm pinged he was too far gone to answer, though he was aware of it and coherent enough to wonder why the door guard to the tower would be contacting _him_.

The pleasure of the overload tore through him, shattering and scattering his thoughts until he turned his optics back on to see his carrier standing at the side of his berth with a cleaning cloth in one hand.

"You have company, and the guard is insisting that you meet them at the door," she informed him calmly.

"Company that can't just come up?" Prowl focused his optics with difficulty even as he took the cloth and wiped himself clean.

"Yes. It seems Jazz is at the door, and he is not in the kind of shape that Lockjaw wants to let wander around," she said firmly, watching as coherency returned to her eldest creation.

"I'll find out what happened," Prowl promised as he stood and gave a last glance to make sure he was presentable.

Starbright simply nodded acceptance and followed him out of his room.

The cause of the doorkeeper's reluctance was quickly evident when Prowl arrived on the ground floor lobby.

The trembling, somewhat disheveled individual was a far cry from the neat and collected mech that Prowl had shown through the Helix Gardens and held in arms not a metacycle before.

Jazz froze as Prowl arrived in the entryway, his visor brightening for an instant before looking down again, ashamed. "Prowl-." He started softly.

"What in Primus' designation happened to you?" Prowl's tone was all concern, his field backing it up as he stepped close and drew Jazz close. "I'll take it from here. Thank you Lockjaw."

The guard nodded and returned to his post.

"Uncle and I had a disagreement. I left." Jazz shuddered in his arms, the word such a simply summary of his escape from the house and subsequent trip half away around Cybertron to the only place he could think of as _safe_.

"How permanently?" Prowl asked as he nudged Jazz towards the penthouse lift.

"He's already had me disowned." Jazz admitted from Prowl's arms, moving where directed without resistance, too tired and worn to argue. "Been less than four orns."

Shock rippled through Prowl's field, but he held his questions until the lift doors closed. "That is quite a disagreement," he murmured.

"He's furious." Jazz said, managing to focus for a bit. "Shouldn't have come. Didn't know where else to go though..."

"I'm glad you came," Prowl held him gently but firmly. "No matter how angry he is, he's in no position to challenge me. I'll destroy him if he tries."

A small sound, mixed pain and relief, escaped Jazz as he leaned into the touch. "It was a bonding contract. He wanted me to honor the agreement he had made." Jazz explained as his field finally started to relax.

Prowl was dumbstruck, frozen until the doors opened into the entry room. Only then did he collect himself enough to speak. "You are not going back," he said firmly. "You'll stay with me until you have your final upgrades and are ready to be on your own."

Another shiver ran through the mech in arms, confusion and exhaustion clear as he was guided from the lift and into the Prowl's home. "Thank you."

Prowl sent a wave of support through his field. "When was your last refueling?"

"Last orn." Jazz admitted after a moment. "Contact who didn't care much for my uncle much gave me some, and a place to recharge for a couple joor."

Prowl nodded and guided Jazz through double doors and into the pantry on the right. He grabbed a couple high grade candies and gently pressed one to Jazz's lips while his other arm helped support the lighter mech. As soon as Jazz realized what he was being offered the candy disappeared far faster than would have normally been good for his system, but as starved as his systems currently thought they were for energy he wasn't able to fight it, attention fixing on the one still in Prowl's hand.

With a smile Prowl lifted it to Jazz's lips and watched it disappear, then reached for a cube of midgrade. The cube was offered the same way.

By then Jazz reached up, slightly ashamed, and held out the hand. It was bad enough that Prowl was holding him steady for the most part, without the other mech having to feed him as well.

"But I rather like to," Prowl purred softly, affection weaving between their fields as he let go of the cube so Jazz could hold it. "Though I'll like it more when it's for fun than because you're shaking."

"Sorry." Jazz replied, the first hint of a smile appearing at the other mech's attempt at humor as he started on the cube, forcing himself to move more slowly.

"Don't be," Prowl murmured. "You'll feel a lot better when you've processed the energon, had a good hot shower and night's recharge."

"All of that sounds wonderful." Jazz admitted, a little strength creeping back into his field as the energon he was processing started to steady his frame. Soon his leaning against the other mech was more a desire for contact than an actual need of support to stay upright.

"Good," Prowl smiled and rubbed Jazz's side gently. "When you're finished with that cube we'll get you cleaned up, then more energon, then recharge. As bad as you look and feel, I've helped nurse many a creature back from far worse conditions."

Jazz worked on finishing off the cube at the second mention of a shower, his field revealing just how much he was looking forward to being clean once more as he tried to sort through that last comment.

Finally he reached the conclusion that he didn't care as the last drops of energon were drained from the cube.

Prowl subspaced a full cube, a small handful of rust sticks and a few jellies before guiding Jazz towards the residential wing on the second floor. They passed through the large, partially divided room that was a combination of berthroom, study, entertainment center and display space with little comment. The washrack door on the far wall was what had Jazz's attention.

"Is your uncle likely to send someone after you?" Prowl asked as they stepped into a beautifully crafted washrack with a large shower, hot oil pool large enough for three and a few devices that Jazz couldn't readily identify.

His attention was occupied by the washrack thoroughly enough that it took Jazz a moment to answer.

"I don't know." He admitted. "He was furious with me, but sending someone after me would draw more attention than simply disowning me, as he has already done. Especially if I am quiet."

"Then you can be quiet for a few vorns," Prowl said simply as he turned on the solvent spray and set it to warm and guided Jazz under it. "I'd rather not stir up trouble if it isn't going to come looking for us."

"If he doesn't think I am any threat to him I'm not worth the energy, especially since there would be nothing for him to prove." Jazz said, moaning softly as the first shower of solvent hit his plating and starting running down his frame, grime streaking away to flow down the drain in the floor. "He'll lose some face with the family that made the offer, but the risk versus the gain is very high for something that is easily made up other ways." He added, turning some to allow the solvent to reach other places on his frame.

"Good," Prowl relaxed slightly as he poured a thicker solvent onto a cleaning cloth and began to work on Jazz's frame, starting with the very top points; the stubby sensory horns.

The first few strokes left Jazz whimpering and trembling again, hands reaching out to brace against the wall of the washrack at the attention. If he wasn't so tired what would have been flaring through his field would have been full blown pleasure. As it was, the intense feeling of _good_ was strong enough for Prowl to pick up.

"Sensitive," the Praxian purred, delighted with his find. Reluctantly he moved down to the top of Jazz's helm, his strokes firm but gentle as he worked to remove orns of travel dirt from his friend's frame.

"Very." Jazz murmured in agreement, relaxing into the touch and care he was feeling. "Especially to sound and vibration."

"I'll keep that in mind for when you feel up to kissing again," Prowl didn't hide the desire he still felt for that moment and the anticipation of repeating it. "Anything that brings you pleasure so easily will be delightful to play with."

The other mech hummed, the melodic sound as much of a response as he could muster to the desire being expressed and the wonderfully soothing feeling of Prowl's touch on his armor. "Will have to find yours then." He added without really thinking about what he was saying at the moment.

"I look forward to it," Prowl whispered as his hands moved down to Jazz's neck and the bundles of cabling that collected all sorts of dirt. "This is going to take a while," he added as he reached for a small brush to work on the complex geometry of the cable bundles.

"I'll try not to fall into recharge on you." Jazz murmured from where he was still leaning against the wall. "Can help, if you have another scrub." He offered after a moment.

"Just set your joints and let yourself recharge," Prowl smiled and leaned forward to give a gentle brush of his lips against the base of Jazz's helm. "You'll be clean when you boot."

"Thank you." The smaller mech mumbled, field reaching out to brush against Prowl's affectionately as obeyed, joints locking to keep him upright as systems dropped into standby.

* * *

Warmth and comfort, two things that Jazz couldn't remember feeling in quite a while as he came out of recharge. Slowly his optics came online, snapping to fully functional as he sat up and tried to figure out where he was.

Then everything came back in rush. Prowl greeting him at the door, guiding a shaking, filthy, exhausted Jazz to the lift. Feeding him energon and then leading to a glorious washroom and the last thing Jazz could recall, urging him to relax as Prowl scrubbed away the dirt and grime.

For a moment Jazz was sure that it had all been a dream. A wonderful, glorious dream. But sitting on a side table within reach was a cube of energon that looked exactly like the one he had consumed the night before, a rust coated confection resting beside it. A datapad was beside it with a short note on it.

_Recharge until you are well rested. I am sorry I could not stay. I will return before the noon meal._

_Prowl_

Realizing just how late it was, Jazz was not surprised that the Praxian was gone. He scooted to the edge of the berth and picked up the cube of energon, sipping at it slowly and carefully, not so much worried about waste as about the possibility of making a mess in quarters that were not his own.

As he looked around it came home all that much harder that he had _nothing_. At the moment he was completely dependent on the good will of others for his very survival. A rather terrifying thought the longer he contemplated it.

He had no skills of value here; Prowl was so much better than he'd ever be at business. Bluestreak was the social one, and there was Smokescreen too. His contacts were mostly burned, and the rest didn't have enough to buy him much. All he had was himself.

A faint shiver passed through his frame as it sank in. Himself. His frame. Yes, he'd been inclined to offer himself to Prowl when they'd parted last, but that was when Jazz didn't _need_ anything.

His processors twisted around that as he finished the cube and the door slid open.

"Feeling better?" Prowl asked smoothly as he glided in, his optics taking in his friend.

"Much. Thank you." Jazz answered from where he was still hunched on the edge of the berth, not daring to look up and meet the other mech's gaze. Not sure of what he might find in those pale blue optics.

"What's wrong?" Prowl asked as he closed the distance and reached to tip Jazz's face up.

Jazz stared at him. How did one describe having absolutely nothing?

"Worthless." He finally settled, one hand making a small gesture that indicated he was talking about himself. He might be entertaining for now, but surely Prowl would grow bored with him, weary of caring for him, and Jazz would be back on his own.

Prowl cocked his helm. "What makes you say that?"

"I have nothing, except a ruined reputation and burned bridges." Jazz answered quietly.

Prowl hummed and sat down next to him on the berth to draw Jazz close. "You don't even have your final upgrades yet. You have plenty of time to build a new reputation, a new life. You have a lot of potential."

Jazz's frame where it touched his was stiff and unyielding. "And where am I going to do that?"

"Here," Prowl said firmly. "I meant what I said. You are welcome here. I am willing to invest in your future."

Hope flared in Jazz's field as he leaned against Prowl, helm rising to nuzzle at Prowl hesitantly.

"All I ask for my support is that you work towards a goal that will allow you to support yourself in time," Prowl rubbed Jazz's side. "It does not need to be trade. It does need to be something that will contribute."

Jazz hummed softly. "I will think." He promised, still thinking. "What...about the rest of your family?"

"Will accept you," Prowl said with the kind of firmness that meant he would force it if need be. "It is not the family's credits that are being spent. They do not have much of a say in how I spend what is mine."

"Yours?" Jazz repeated as that finally registered, looking up at Prowl.

"I have a personal income from the business," Prowl nodded. "It is more than enough to cover this."

Jazz was silent as all of that filtered through his processor. The claim that Prowl was making on him, and all of what it potentially entailed.

A part of him wanted to shy away from that implication, fighting valiantly against the idea of being under the control of anyone ever again.

While another part of him wanted to be just where he was, wrapped in Prowl's arms, tucked safety against the Praxian's side, and being offered the promise of support from the one mecha he had always been able to trust.

"Thank you." It was repetitive, and so insignificant in comparison what Prowl had already done, and what he was offering in the future. But it was all Jazz had to offer at the moment, and as his field flooded out to weave with Prowl's he hoped it would be enough.

Pleasure filtered back to him. Pleasure that the support had been accepted. Pleasure at Jazz's presence. Pleasure that Prowl could do this.

"You are welcome," Prowl kissed the top of Jazz's helm. "Are you ready to face the rest of the family, or would you like to recover some more first?"

Jazz vented softly. "Better now than later, I would guess." He concluded, looking up at Prowl questioningly.

"Better when you are ready than sooner," Prowl said gently. "This is their first impression of you in person."

Jazz looked down at the scuffed and dull armor plating of his arm. If that was any indication of what the rest of him looked like just getting cleaned up enough to be considered presentable was going to be a chore.

"Not sure I am ever going to be ready, but I'll make a better impression if I clean up a little first..."

"Cleaned and polished," Prowl agreed as he stood and offered Jazz a hand.

"Probably take me most of the orn." He commented as he took the offered hand finally looked down the rest of his frame with a wince. If this was how he looked now after Prowl had scrubbed him clean he must have been quite a sight the night before.

"If we do it by ourselves, yes," Prowl agreed with a hint of amusement in his field. "I have a couple specialists coming with their equipment. It will still take a couple joors, but you'll look like yourself soon."

"I would guess that I did not make a good impression showing up the way I did." He said as they crossed to the washroom without releasing his hold on Prowl's hand.

"Fortunately only the tower's guard and I actually saw you," Prowl smiled and reached to turn on the shower. "You were quite a mess."

"So I might still have a chance." Jazz said as he settled under the spray with a content sigh. "What does your family think of me?" He asked after a moment, wondering how big of a wall he was going to have to overcome, and how much trouble he was potentially going to cause for Prowl.

"Smokescreen doesn't like you, but he's only a cousin. Starbright and Bluestreak are rather partial to you because I'm fond of you. They both think that I don't socialize enough. Darksky isn't pleased about us, though his concerns are for the business and my reputation. He's largely settled down about that since it hasn't happened."

Jazz processed all of that, lining up designations with what Prowl had told him in the past. The fact that his sibling and carrier favored him would help, and there was little he could do that would endanger the trade business of their family now, which should help with Prowl's sire. Still, he was curious about one thing.

"What did I do to your cousin?"

Prowl actually laughed as he went to work on Jazz's helm. "You're competition to him. He's the same kind of social that you are and he doesn't like it. He'll get over it once he figures out you aren't going to squeeze him out."

"Wouldn't mind working with you." Jazz purred as he leaned into the touch and recalled the way the two of them had started using to make inroads on the merchants at the trade shows. "But being a merchant or trader was never something _I_ wanted to do."

"Oh?" Prowl's rumble was soft as he slid his fingers to circle the base of both sensor horns in opposite directions. "What have you _wanted_ to be?"

"Singer." Jazz managed as his frame started to tremble, pleasure and desire flaring in his field. "Always liked music."

"You have a nice voice," Prowl hummed, drinking in the response to his touch. "Do you have any training?"

"Nothing formal. Wasn't allowed." Short sentences were all that Jazz could manage at the moment, distracted by the touch to his sensor horns, so wonderful and new in way that was very nice.

"We'll see about changing that," Prowl whispered as he turned his full attention to finding out just how _good_ he could make Jazz feel with just this touch.

"Prowl..." The smaller mech moaned, melting against the Praxian for support.

"Do you want me to stop?" Prowl asked innocently, even as he spoke directly against a sensor horn.

"No." Jazz admitted, even though this wasn't doing a lot to get him cleaned up he didn't care at the moment, too caught up in what Prowl was doing.

"Good," Prowl whispered softly. His tone and field weren't quite seductive, but there was no mistaking the desire that was rising in him at the pleasure flooding Jazz's field.

Jazz melted against him, fields blending deeply until the smaller mech noticed the rapidly growing heat and desire in the Praxian holding him up. A shudder ran through Jazz, a ripple of something entirely different under the pleasure in his frame, and then complete submission as his valve cover retracted in a silent offer.

Prowl paused, a flicker of confusion before his processors caught up with events. "No one's ever been gentle with you," he murmured, somewhere between furious and hurt for his friend.

Jazz quivered, shaking his helm even as he offered again. "Take, if you want."

The passion in Prowl's field cooled quickly as he gently turned Jazz around to face him and lifted Jazz's chin up for a tender kiss. "I don't want to take. Pleasure is to be shared."

That was something of a new idea for Jazz. While he had been with mecha and come away with pleasurable results, rarely had it been because the encounter had been one he desired. 

The tension that had built in his frame melted away with the kiss though, and the sincere warmth that Prowl put into the action, gentle and not in the least demanding.

Lightly Prowl rested their forehelms together. "I want to be with you, badly, but only if you feel desire as well," he barely managed to get the words out over the fear that the kiss they'd shared in the garden had been as far as Jazz would ever want to go.

Slowly Jazz's hand came up, brushing lightly against the side of Prowl's helm as their lips met again for a moment. "Can learn." He said as he realized that Prowl was trembling every so slightly. "Want to learn."

Prowl had already taught him so much, even if the Praxian didn't know it. Maybe he could show Jazz how _this_ could be different from he had known as well.

A full-frame shudder cascaded down Prowl in relief. "Then I will teach," he promised. With a soft x-vent he reorganized his intentions, determined the best way to succeed and accepted what that meant. "Not here, or now, however. A first time should be in a soft berth with plenty of time to explore."

Jazz nodded, accepting and understanding, shifting a little in Prowl's arms. "Finish cleaning up, then?" He asked, the hesitancy in his voice still at odds with the outgoing, confident mech that most usually saw.

"Yes," Prowl nodded and reached for the cloth and thick solvent again.

* * *

Jazz walked beside Prowl, still slightly in awe at being cleaner and better polished than he could remember being in his entire functioning. When Prowl had said professional team, that was exactly what he had meant. The team of three had managed to put Jazz's external appearance to rights in less than a joor.

Meaning that there was no reason for them not to be present at the mid day meal, since Jazz was both functional and presentable. And despite his friend's insistence that his family would accept Jazz, and the promise that Prowl was willing to press the issue if needed, Jazz doubted that this initial meeting was going to be a pleasant experience.

He wasn't surprised that they were the last to arrive, and he could read the assumptions about him in their faces and frame language despite the fairly formal setting. As Prowl had said, Bluestreak seemed openly curious and friendly, Starbright was poised as the consummate hostess and matriarch with a guarded acceptance, and Darksky was openly calculating and less than happy.

Prowl paused as he took it in and actually scowled at his sire before giving himself a more formal air. "Darksky, Starbright, Bluestreak, this is Jazz."

Deciding that this most definitely called for his best manners and behavior Jazz inclined his helm respectfully to Darksky and Starbright. "It is a pleasure to meet you all. Thank you for allowing me to stay the orn."

"Welcome to our home, Jazz," Starbright canted her sensor wings in reply. "Please sit with us and refresh yourself."

Prowl wordlessly urged Jazz to take an empty seat, then sat himself.

"Did you really drive all the way from Kaon in two orns?" Bluestreak couldn't contain his curiosity.

"Two and a half, yes." Jazz replied as he settled into the empty seat, doing his best to keep his tension and anxiety to himself. He felt Prowl's field extend and try to offer support, though the Praxian was nearly as nervous as he was.

"Why not take a shuttle, or drive at a more respectable rate?" Starbright asked calmly as the first course, a light, effervescent low-grade of fine quality, was served in slim, cut crystal stemware.

"I did not have the resources to afford a shuttle, or places to stay as I traveled." Jazz explained, field blending into Prowl's without Jazz realizing what he was doing consciously. Touching the Praxian, usually so solid and stable, was almost automatic to him when they were together.

His words sent a ripple around the table, Prowl being the only one that wasn't surprised.

"You couldn't afford a shuttle?" Bluestreak repeated, trying to wrap his processors around the statement.

"No. I was not expecting to leave, or to have to do so quickly. I didn't have anything with me." Jazz responded, the memories of those orns running together in his processor still.

"Why here, half way around the world?" Darksky asked evenly, a distinct clue as to where Prowl got much of his natural poise and manner from.

There was a moment of silence as Jazz faced the truth of his situation once more and confessed. "I didn't know where else to go after defying my Uncle's wishes."

The matriarch and patriarch of the family exchanged glances at that. "Because of his power, or a lack of those you trust?" Starbright asked a bit more gently.

"Both." Was the quick response, followed by a more thorough explanation. "At first I was not sure how he was going to respond, and even after he proclaimed me disowned there were few I did not trust to try and curry favor with him by handing me over anyway."

Jazz might have been the one of the few faces of the cleaner side of the family business, but he was under no illusions about most of the mecha he dealt with even in that capacity. Those that liked him well enough while he had been in his uncle's favor were just as likely to turn on him for their own gain once Jazz fell from that favor.

Darksky hummed and sipped his energon appetizer. "What, exactly, did you defy him about?"

Next to Jazz, Prowl went tense. He already knew more than he wanted to about that.

Jazz sighed, tension flooding through him in a reflection of Prowl's current state as he answered. "He was approached with a bonding offer from another family, for me. He accepted it. I refused to honor the contract he had negotiated. To say he was furious is stating his response...mildly."

Prowl focused on his energon, trying very hard to gloss over what he was hearing.

"Why would you do such a thing?" Darksky asked, his tone betraying how little he liked what he was hearing.

"Why should I not?" Jazz countered, anger flickering to life for an instant. "I found out because he called me in to tell me what orn I would be leaving to honor it."

A visible tremble ran through his frame, aggression leaving as quickly as it had come as Prowl reached over under the table to take his hand. "And I didn't want to be with _him_."

"It was for...."

"Sire. That is enough." Prowl's helm snapped up as he locked optics with Darksky, publicly challenging him for the first time. "The good of the family has limits."

"If I tell you who to bond with, you will do so," Darksky rumbled, his wings hitching upwards. "It is my right."

"Only as long as you live," Prowl replied darkly, his field and wings settling from anger to cold determination. "Then it is my choice whether to honor the contract."

Bluestreak looked between the pair, shocked and more than a little scared by what he was hearing. Jazz quivered in his own seat, the entire situation taking a worse turn than even he had anticipated. 

"Prowl!" Starbright voiced the shock much of the table was feeling.

"Would you agree to a contract that would cause one of us to abandon the family?" Prowl demanded of his sire. "What is the advantage to that?"

Visor bright, Jazz scanned the room, trying to decide if he should run, and where. Pain and regret flooded his field. He should not have come. He should not have drug Prowl into this and placed the other mech in such a position. He flinched and stilled as Prowl's hand closed around his firmly.

"Would you?" Prowl demanded of his sire.

"No," Darksky consented. "I do not like that he would refuse to honor a contract."

"I do not like it either," Prowl settled as his sire did. "However, any contract that is so badly taken must have a fundamental flaw in it."

Grudgingly Darksky acquiesced to that and shifted focus to his mate for a brief but heated debate across their bond.

"As you are not yet in your final upgrades, and neither is my creation, you will be our _charge_ until your upgrades," Starbright stressed the term making him more than a guest in responsibilities on both sides. "Once you are a mech, you will either support yourself in this household as we all do, or you will become Prowl's full financial responsibility." She paused and considered her elder creation. "I will not accept a paramour living in this home. Do you both understand?"

"Yes, carrier," Prowl inclined his helm and wings in respect. "Thank you."

"Yes." Jazz responding, finding his voice quickly and hiding the shake in it admirably as he also bowed his helm.

"Good," Starbright relaxed and sipped the rest of her appetizer. "How long have you been interfacing with my creation?"

Prowl actually choked on his energon before looking up to stare at her in disbelief. The mechling seated beside him seemed far less broadsided by the question, the flicker of unease in his field more from wondering if they would believe the truth when he answered. "I haven't."

A curious optic ridge lifted as her gaze shifted to Prowl, who was still simply staring at her with a look that bordered on thinking she was insane.

"Soon, probably," Prowl mumbled to the unvoiced but blatant question. "Our last meeting ended with a first kiss."

Jazz was simply confused between the non-reaction of Prowl's family and his friend's own somewhat stunned reactions. Was that not a normal question?

"Just remember to lock your door again," Bluestreak giggled, earning a dark glare from Prowl. "I really don't need to see any more of your kinks."

While their creators didn't react, Jazz noticed the glimmer of humor in Starbright's optics. At least she thought her creation's reactions were amusing.

"If you learned to _wait_ for permission to enter you wouldn't have had that problem the first time," Prowl shot back with more aggression than he usually displayed towards his brother's innocent chatter.

"Where's the fun in that?" Bluestreak asked, bright optics revealing that he was not afraid of his elder brother's ire.

The entire exchange served to relax Jazz some, his field and frame easing as the tension started to dissipate. He also made a mental note to ask Prowl what Bluestreak was referring to. Later. In private.

"It's proper manners," Prowl hissed, the tension less in his field than his frame was displaying. "Something you would do well to learn better than you have."

Despite the verbal sparring, which turned to all the questions Jazz expected as the family interrogated him both as a long-term guest and as a potential lover for the next head of the family, Jazz felt himself relaxing more as the meal progressed. It really helped when Prowl finally relaxed, but they were both still grateful for the end of the meal and the opening to retreat to Prowl's quarters.

Jazz rose from the table when Prowl did, excusing himself gracefully and politely thanking his hosts. It wasn't until they were well down the hall and out of audio range that he finally relaxed the rest of the way, to the point that the loss of tension actually threw him off balance.

Prowl's hands were on him instantly, the larger frame against his in support. "Are you all right?" Prowl's voice was low and quiet, concerned that the meal had been too rich after Jazz's long drive.

"Yeah. That was...worse than I thought it was going to be." Jazz admitted, leaning against Prowl and welcoming the support because he could.

"A few of those questions were uncalled for," Prowl agreed as he guided Jazz to his ... their ... quarters. "Meals are not normally like that. Talk is usually business and social schedules."

Jazz chuckled softly. "The questions were fine. Especially your brother's, where he doesn't mean any harm by them. I had not...I had not expected your sire to react so poorly to my actions."

He hesitated for a moment, before adding. "Or that you disapproved of what I had done."

"To break a contract ... Jazz, this is a merchant family. We live and die by our good reputation, one built on doing what we agree to do," he tried to explain as the door closed behind them. "There is theory, and there is reality. Sire did not see how badly you wanted to avoid that bond. He didn't see what you were willing to risk. I can disapprove of breaking a contract, but I can't disapprove of _you_."

Prowl sighed deeply and guided Jazz to sit on the berth where he could hold him. "Your uncle was wrong to agree to a contract like that."

The smaller mech curled against Prowl's frame. Jazz understood what Prowl was saying, understood the unspoken laws of honor and obligation that went with such things. And wondered if they had any idea of how gray those laws were in the worlds that Jazz had come from.

"I didn't know about until after it was done and signed." He explained quietly. "I always knew that to him I was simply another piece of property to be bartered for the most the gain. I should have paid more attention."

He had allowed himself to become distracted. Distracted by the mech that held him now, and the real center of the reason that he had defied his uncle to his face and fled as he had.

"I know," Prowl murmured, trying to be soothing. "I'm sorry you had to know that side of existence. You won't be bartered here."

A soft vent, comfort at the promise, promises, that he had possibly found a better functioning.

Prowl took the silence and relaxation as grounds to move onto something that was bothering him. "Jazz, do you desire me?"

"I...yes?" Jazz tried to answer, struggling deep in his spark to find the words. He wanted to be around Prowl. Wanted to be with the mech, to feel him nearby. To be touched and held, to talk and laugh and share the happiness that wasn't just an act when he was around the Praxian, but an expression of his very spark.

"Friends do not have to be lovers," Prowl struggled himself. As much as he desired to have Jazz as his lover, he refused to surrender the friendship they had build for it. "If our kiss did not feel right...."

"No." Jazz countered, sure in this fact at least. The kisses they had shared, from that first one in the gardens, had been right. Good in a way that Jazz had not experienced before. "With you, they're wonderful."

Prowl's sensor wings sagged in relief. "Good," he whispered, his voice shaky as he tipped Jazz's face to claim a gentle kiss while his field tried to express just what he felt for Jazz. The desire, the passion, the warmth and affection.

The kiss was returned, curious and exploratory as Jazz struggled to reconcile everything that he was picking up from Prowl. Desire was something he was well familiar with, but linking it to the personal emotions and feelings that Prowl had to him was new, and something of a struggle.

When the kiss finally ended, Prowl only pulled back enough to speak. "Tell me what you like." Despite being phrased as a statement, an order, it felt much more like a question, almost a plea, from the Praxian.

Confusion flooded back through blended fields as Jazz looked at him. "I don't know. Other than being with _you_."

His arms tightened around Prowl, as much an act to comfort himself as the Praxian. "Willing to try with you. Anything."

Prowl let out a soft sound that was part arousal and part desperation as he leaned in to kiss Jazz again. This time he also gently guided his friend to lay down on the berth they'd been sitting on. 

The slender mech gave in to the direction, Jazz trusting in a way that he was with no one else as he focused more on the kiss and less on the rest of his surroundings. The warmth and weight of a mecha above him rarely meant good things, but this was Prowl. This was a mech that had refused to take him before because he wanted to _share_ it with Jazz.

Strong, slender fingers worked down Jazz's side as one hand moved. The other hand rubbed pleasant circles around a sensor horn. Their merged fields spoke of Prowl's arousal in tiny zaps of energy.

From the very beginning this was different from any experience in the past, and Jazz kept reminding himself of that fact. Of the fact that the hand on his side was gentle, as were the lips that were still pressed to his. That the hand on his sensor horn was soothing, relaxing, meant to comfort and reassure.

Assurance that Jazz accepted as his hands hesitantly moved down Prowl's side. Searching, experimenting, trying something that he had never been allowed before. Every touch was met with a spike of arousal and frequently a moan of encouragement. Prowl's wings fanned out, the fingers separating as they pressed down, well into Jazz's reach.

That was enough to catch Jazz's attention, his visor brightening as he noticed the wings when the kiss broke. "For me?" He asked softly.

"Please," Prowl groaned in anticipation. "They're even more sensitive than your horns."

"Oh?" Jazz purred, shivering under Prowl as his hands found the wings, running smoothly down the slender expanses of the wings that he had always secretly admired.

"Yes..." Prowl shuddered and moaned, his entire focus turning to his wings and the pleasure surging into his sensor net from his lover's touch.

Jazz was pleased, loving the reaction he was getting from Prowl and delving deeper into this new territory. Slender, skillful fingers found their way into the fine seams, teasing the sensors underneath.

Prowl pressed his wings into the touch more firmly, blindly asking for more as his vents opened fully and fans picked up. His own touch became distracted as he trembled and panted, the energy in his field growing as the charge inside him built.

"Jazz...." he moaned shamelessly.

"Yes?" The tone was light, teasing as Jazz shivered again from the pleasure singing through Prowl's field. It wasn't _his_ pleasure, but at the same time he was enjoying every sound and response he was getting from Prowl.

A small corner of his processor noted the change, the difference, and made the first steps toward altering everything Jazz thought he knew.

"Please, more," Prowl trembled visibly, his optics on but not processing anything as his frame surrendered to the building pleasure. "Close."

His lover complied, hands riding farther up the wings, looking for more ways to pull those sounds of pleasure from his friend. Stretching, Jazz managed to even get one hand down near the base of a wing, the wider gaps providing more room for his fingers to play and explore. 

Prowl trembled, gasping and burning hot from the inside. His wings pressed into the searching hands wantonly as the charge building in him reached critical and began to jump across circuits and wires randomly.

The smaller mech beneath him whimpered, but for the first time the sound was not one of distress. The heat and charge of the Praxian's overload was different, not taken but given, it had felt _good_ to give this to his friend.

As the crackling energy began to calm, then dissipate, Prowl sank down, resting on top of Jazz as he tried to regulate systems thrown out of whack. Gradually he nuzzled his new lover, then kissed Jazz's jaw. "That felt very good."

"I'm glad." Jazz murmured, turning his helm enough to reach's Prowls lips for another kiss, ignoring the tingling in his frame the energy transfer from the other had put into motion. "That was fun."

Prowl hummed in relaxing contentment into the kiss before he began to scoot down Jazz's frame, kissing along the mech's center seam as he did.

"Prowl?" Jazz questioned, soft voice matching the hesitance in his field as his frame shuddered, responding to the attention he was being shown.

Reassurance swirled back from Prowl as he continued to move lower. "I've been fantasizing about what your spike and valve are like for vorns."

The quivering continued with hints of the same submissiveness that Prowl had gotten before. There was no real resistance in Jazz's field either, just the lingering doubt that this could be pleasant or fun warring with the desire to trust someone again.

Prowl did his best to offer reassurance through his field as he worked his way down Jazz's frame, kissing and licking at seams and armor until he reached the spike cover and kissed the center of it.

The cover retracted at the first touch of his lips, then nothing as Jazz remained still on the berth, watching and feeling as Prowl's lips gently descended to kiss the spike housing. Without hesitation Prowl slid his glossa around the housing, willing to be patient in coaxing it to extend for him so long as Jazz was willing to let him try.

Disbelief flared in Jazz's field at what he thought Prowl was planning. "Are you...sure?"

Bright ice blue optics looked up and Prowl smiled. His field was rich with reassurance and deep desire when he spoke. "I want to taste you, hear and feel it as you overload in my mouth."

The field mixed deeply with his rippled with more confusion, but the mech it belonged to obeyed, spike slipping free housing to pressurize between them. Swirls of black and blue ran the white length, defining the ridges and shape.

"Beautiful," Prowl whispered before giving a kiss to the very tip, then trailing them down the underside as his lips explored every detail with tender care and honest arousal at being able to kiss and touch.

The attention brought the first flare of pleasure from the smaller mech, and a surprised moan as Jazz's visor flickered.

Prowl's hands slid along Jazz's thighs while Prowl continued his gentle exploration that ended with his lips on the tip of Jazz's spike. With a swirl of his glossa, Prowl slowly lowered his helm to take in the spike he'd dreamed about for so long.

With another moan Jazz finally relaxed, frame quivering at the warm heat surround his spike and the gentle hands stroking his plating. Prowl's mouth was warm and slick. The glossa in it active and attentive as Prowl lowered his helm until he was kissing the housing once more. He stilled, working his intake around the tip while his glossa lavished attention near the base.

"Prowl." Jazz whimpered, hips twitching as he tried to control himself. He didn't want to hurt his friend, and he certainly didn't want Prowl to stop what he was doing that was sending such wonderful waves of pleasure surging through Jazz's frame.

The mech hummed, adding vibration to the pleasurable surges, and opened a comm with his friend and lover. ::You won't hurt me. I know how to take it and make it _good_. Or I can hold you down until you overload from just my touch.::

::Not long...either way.:: Jazz managed, hips rolling into the welcoming touch as the smaller mech's hands twisted into the berth covering, a mocking attempt to ground his frame from the rapidly building charge.

::It's okay,:: Prowl reassured, humming happily as he drew upwards, his lips sliding along Jazz's shaft until he was kissing the tip again, then he slid down. His hands remained gently stroking Jazz's thighs, unconcerned that Jazz might hurt him. ::I want to make you feel good.::

The next response and only warning he got was his designation pulled from his lover as Jazz's frame arched off the berth, charge sliding over his frame and tugging at Prowl's fingertips as hot, equally charged transfluid spilled from Jazz's spike. Prowl moaned at the feel of it in his mouth, the way the charge tingled the sensors there and along his glossa.

He continued to work the spike as it shot burst after burst into his mouth and down his intake, the slick slide of it making Prowl quiver with arousal. It was only when he was sure not another drop was coming that Prowl lifted his helm, the slide of the spike past his lips until even the tip was free was slow, luxurious and every bit the show of desire that the first kiss had been.

The object of his affections lay limp on the berth, frame still working to cool itself as Jazz watched the performance and felt the arousal in Prowl's field.

He found the coordination to lift a hand, asking and inviting the other mech to join him.

Despite how hot he was running, how badly he wanted to do more, Prowl easily moved up to lie next to his lover and hold him. "I won't hurt you and I won't force you into anything," he promised soft. "It should always feel good to both of us, even when only one overloads."

"So that felt good to you?" Jazz asked, shifting so that his entire frame was against Prowl's, taking in the heat and desire of his lover and weighing it against Prowl's actions and words.

"Enjoyable," Prowl claimed a tender kiss. "Perhaps what it felt like for you to give me a wing overload."

"Nice to give because you enjoyed it." Jazz summed up instantly. And something that Jazz had been happy and willing to give because Prowl had demanded nothing of him.

"And because I care for you," Prowl added, lightly stroking Jazz's plating. "Think you have one more round in you?"

The smaller mech considered for a moment before nodding in agreement, wondering what his friend and lover had planned. He watched as Prowl slid a hand down Jazz's frame to lightly rub his valve cover. A shiver ran through his frame with a following moment of tension before he forced himself to relax and the cover slid away from gentle touch.

This was Prowl. Prowl, who had always been honest and true to him. So if Prowl said this could be good, would be good, then Jazz was willing to give him the chance to prove it.

Prowl's fingers found a slick entrance, but there was none of the heat that marked arousal. He kept his touch light, fingers brushing along the platelets as he leaned in to kiss Jazz with the hunger and passion the mech inspired in him. The limp submission that he had encountered before was gone, replaced with a tense hesitation left over from a history of abuse and not easily ignored.

Slowly Jazz fed off that that desire, that passion, field reaching out to take it as his own and slowly warming his frame and processor to the idea as gentle fingers continued to stroke at his valve.

"I will make sure you enjoy this, as long as you allow me," Prowl promised despite how badly he was shaking in need. He wouldn't last long, he knew, but he also knew he could keep going after his first spike overload. He had little doubt he'd need to this time.

Jazz nuzzled him, accepting. "Go ahead." He murmured in permission. "Not going to get any better by holding off."

With a nod Prowl shifted to brace himself above his lover and guided the tip of his spike to the slick entrance before slowly pressing forward.

Jazz's death grip on the berth lessened some with the slow, controlled slide of the spike stretching his valve. The first pleasant flare of activated sensory nodes caught his attention and actually made him focus on the sensation in his valve instead of merely dealing with it. Above him Prowl moaned deeply, his optics shuttered as he trembled in his effort to control himself when he was so close to the edge. He forced himself to still once their interface panels pressed together, grinding against Jazz lightly.

Dark hands rose from the berth to trace down Prowl's sides as Jazz field opened, more accepting of what was happening with each small motion that set off the sensors once more.

Prowl shivered and fought to retain his control as he drew back. "You feel so good," he moaned against Jazz's mouth as he slid forward just a bit harder than the first time.

"Feels so very different." Jazz was willing to admit, shivering himself at as he focused once more on what Prowl was doing, and slowly acknowledging that it felt good.

"Good," Prowl moaned, a little of his control slipping with his next thrust. "Want you to enjoy."

"I'll try." Jazz promised, though the slight moan that escaped him with the next thrust hinted that he might not have to try very hard.

It was about all Prowl could take. The next thrust was harder, driving deeper and pulling out faster as Prowl surrendered to his frame's demands. The soft sounds of pleasure continued, and soon Jazz's hips were rolling up to meet each thrust, a willing participant instead of a merely complacent recipient.

Prowl keened as the charge escaped to cascade across his plating. "Too close," he warned his lover, knowing Jazz wasn't going to overload with him and regretting it even though he had no intention of allowing Jazz not to overload before he pulled out.

Jazz grunted softly in understanding, the tickling charge from Prowl's plating dancing across his own where they met, and after a second a hand reached around to find one of the sensor wings he had been offered earlier.

That touch broke what little was left of Prowl control. He arched and roared, driving his spike as deep as it would go to deliver the hot flood of transfluid and ground his hips against Jazz's with each burst.

Wing moved beyond his reach Jazz focused on Prowl's face and field as he rode out the Praxian's overload, his entire frame shaking from the charge coming from what felt like every direction at once. He had to admit that the Praxian was beautiful in his pleasure, all the harshness gone as his thoughts halted in face of the energy running rampant.

There was a final moment of stillness, and Prowl began to move again despite two overloads in as many breems. It was different this time. Every shift was calculated to rub against different sensors inside Jazz. The rolling slide was slow and intentional, everything focused on bringing Jazz pleasure.

Jazz gasped in surprise at the first slide, visor flaring as his valve rippled and tightened around Prowl's spike. Every sensor was primed and responsive between the stimulation and the charge, and the Praxian was managing to find every one of them.

"Prowl." He whimpered, hands digging into his lover's shoulders deeply as his hips rose to meet the other's once more.

"For you," he moaned as his oversensitive spike sent jolts of near-painful pleasure through him. "Like us to overload together," he moaned again, shuddering at the sensations. "Couldn't hold out this time," he pressed his face against Jazz's neck, his entire focus on bringing his lover pleasure.

"Yes." His lover groaned in agreement, wanting what Prowl was offering now that he was finally starting to understand. Wanting that pleasure that could be a shared thing as Prowl had promised.

It didn't take long, between the charge that had leapt from Prowl before, the charged transfluid still in Jazz's valve and the sensation of a skilled lover out to bring him pleasure, Jazz was soon on the very edge. There was barely time for Jazz to warn his lover before the charge exploded in his systems, his entire frame arching off the off the berth as the powerful overload tore through, whiting out his senses momentarily to everything.

When the world began to filter back in, he felt his lover next to him, holding him and purring softly. "That is what it _should_ be like," Prowl nuzzled him affectionately.

A soft vent escaped Jazz as he found the strength to turn so that his frame was resting along Prowl's, field reaching out to rejoin with the other's. For the first time since he had arrived the smaller mech's field was fully relaxed and accepting, at ease in the comforting arms of his friend, and his lover.

"Thank you." He murmured, meaning the words on so many different levels as his lips moved to meet Prowl's in a gentle kiss.

* * *

The soft sounds of rich, upbeat but spark-tugging music drifted into the air outside the small music club as Prowl and Jazz transformed.

"I thought you might enjoy this instead of facing my family again so soon," Prowl offered his hand.

The smaller mech took the offered hand, squeezing it lightly and offering his friend a sincere smile. "Yes. Thank you." His field reached out to brush against Prowl's again, full of affection as they walked inside and found a small table to sit at.

"This is one of my favorite places to relax and let my processors work without active direction," Prowl said as he pulled up the small holo-menu on the table. "There isn't anything not worth having."

"A high compliment indeed, coming from you." Jazz teased as he looked over the menu, taking his time to peruse the entire selection before tapping his finger over one dish in particular. "This sounds amazing."

"It is good," Prowl agreed with an easy smile. "It's on the sweet side, like you enjoy." He pinged their order into the system and turned the menu off. "I hope my creators didn't scare you too badly."

Jazz shook his helm quickly, picking up the small decoration on the table and fiddling with it. "No, they did not. But...I am curious as to exactly what your carrier meant when she said 'charge'."

To Jazz, being someone's charge wasn't something that Jazz had the best experience with.

"It means you are going to be treated as one of their creations until you are in your adult frame," Prowl said simply. "You are entitled to live in our home, drink our energon and make use of our property as if you are one of us. We will pay for standard upgrades of our quality and your maintenance needs. We will pay for an education in a single trade-craft if you do not go into the family business. You will have a small allowance, likely a couple hundred credits a decaorn, to do with as you please. Anything you buy or earn is yours to keep," he ran down the basics, trying to think of exactly what they were and how they might differ from what Jazz knew.

Across from his Jazz listened attentively, considering for a bit after Prowl finished, before asking his next question. "And what is expected of me in return?"

"That you comply with their rules, like the rest of us," Prowl answered before realizing that Jazz might not have any grasp of what it meant. He pulled up an old file that he hadn't accessed since he was a young sparkling, the addendum from when he got his mechling upgrades and pinged it to Jazz. "The addition I'm putting on there is that you don't bring a lover to the house. If you want to fool around, it's your right to. Just not where I live, please."

It didn't take all of Jazz's social talent to pick up that Prowl didn't want him to fool around at all but didn't feel it was his right to make that claim. He chuckled softly, tucking the file away to look over in depth later as he reached out to take Prowl's hand in his own. "I would never do that to you." He promised.

The relief and thanks in Prowl's field spoke louder than any words could. They were still in that pose, relaxing in the contentment and the wonderfully complex music when their meals arrived. Prowl's came in a simple cube of heavily mineralized energon. Jazz's was a selection of solids cut into bite sized pieces and skewered, encrusted, and fired to bond the seasoning to the pieces.

After making his way through the first several skewers and clearly enjoying each one Jazz lifted a whole one and offered the end to Prowl. "So after today...are we going to have to start locking the door to your quarters when we are there?"

"It barely slows him down," Prowl huffed even as he took the end piece from the skewer and popped it in his mouth with a smile for his new lover. "But yes, we should. He's entirely too curious for his own good."

Jazz's helm tipped slightly to one side. "Do I want to know what he supposedly did not want to discover?"

Prowl snorted. "Don't let his innocent look fool you. He experiments more than I do. He just saw me tied down while my lover at the time rode my spike." Despite the easy words, remembering Prism still hurt a little.

Jazz did not miss the emotion in his friend, subtle as it was, and his own field rippled uneasily.

"It was over with Prism shortly before we met," Prowl said quietly before focusing on his energon. "We were talking of bonding, of how it would work with our families and eventual creations being heirs to both. Then he told me that he'd fallen in love and was going to bond with someone else. I didn't see it coming at all."

"How-?" Jazz started, but was unable to get the rest of the question out. How could Prowl, who seemed to be able to predict almost anything, not see it coming? How could anyone do that to Prowl, who was as devoted as anyone he knew to those he cared for? Instead his field expanded, weaving with Prowl's and full of the warmth and acceptance their entire friendship had been built on.

Prowl's field replied with grateful acceptance and thanks as he shuttered his optics briefly. "I didn't _want_ to see it for what it was," he admitted very quietly. "Willful blindness. Looking back I can tell what I turned a blind optic to, because I didn't want to have it end and face building _another_ romance. He was nice to me, right to the end. He'd probably still be a friend if it hadn't hurt so much. I suspect I did not take it gracefully."

Jazz reached out, catching Prowl's hand and adding a physical element to the comfort being offered. "You're strong. You moved on."

"Mostly," Prowl accepted the touch and squeezed Jazz's hand gently. "Everyone's thought when I spent that first evening with you was I was just on a rebound fling. I'm glad it took us so long. I wasn't ready to try again."

"Well, considering the fact that I wasn't ready to try at all, it was a good thing for both of us." Jazz pointed out gently, food forgotten as he focused on the mech that had been his friend first and foremost.

"Yes, it was," Prowl smiled at him and relaxed as the painful memories were stored away once more. "It is always best to build a friendship first. I believe we had a good friendship first."

"Have." Jazz countered, slightly worried at the phrasing. "And...maybe more."

Prowl's wings twitched. "My apologies. Yes, we _have_ a good friendship. I assumed we were more than friends now, with all we did today."

"Well, it's definitely a start." Jazz chuckled as the tension drained away. "Your creators will not be displeased with the idea, I assume. After the questions your carrier was asking."

"Their only objection was to your family ties. With those so publicly and formally broken, they're pleased I'm with someone who makes me happy," Prowl smiled, lifting Jazz's hand to his lips. "It is important you choose that trade-craft well. While I can easily afford to put you up in an apartment once you are an adult, it would be better if you can remain with me in the house. I do not want you as a paramour or concubine. I want you as an equal."

The expression of distaste that crossed Jazz's face at the idea of the former two was a clear indication of his opinion the options as well, something that brought real relief to Prowl. "I will think it, so that you won't have to make that choice." He promised.

"Thank you," Prowl gave his knuckles another kiss before letting go. "If it will help to bounce ideas off me, I'm more than willing. I know Praxus' market well."

* * *

After a metacycle and six orns, Prowl felt comfortable enough with Jazz's agreeable enthusiasm to push a little past the very basic form they'd been using in the berth. He'd used the washrack to get his lover nice and hot, continued the kisses and touching as he got Jazz to kneel on their berth while Prowl stood.

"Willing to try something a little different?" Prowl purred against his lover's throat.

"Only with you." Jazz answered, quivering at the tone of his lover and the light feel of touch on his throat. A flare of eager curiosity rose in his field, evidence of the trust that Prowl had earned.

"Then on your hands and knees," Prowl shivered in anticipation and at having earned the trust needed for this. "Both panels open."

Curiosity met his request but no reservations as Jazz turned obediently, bracing hands and knees firmly on the berth as both panels slid away, baring spike and valve to his lover. He shivered into a moan at the sensation of Prowl's glossa sliding across the sensitive platelets around his valve entrance, testing for readiness.

Prowl didn't hide how pleased he was to find it ready, dripping and quivering in anticipation of the pleasure that Jazz had come to know even in the short time he had been with Prowl. He had come a very long way from the hesitant, fearful mechling whose desire Prowl had questioned. It made the slide of his spike into that valve all the more pleasurable. The squeeze and slick heat something he had often taken for granted with his lovers was a mark of accomplishment with this one.

He brought a hand forward to tease Jazz's spike housing, trying to draw the length out.

Jazz moaned softly, purring in pleasure as his spike slid free and into the searching touch. The duel stimulation made him shudder in rapidly building pleasure.

"Your pleasure feels so good," Prowl moaned as he leaned forward. His hips rolling in a steady rhythm his hand moved in a counter-rhythm to, Prowl used his free hand to tip Jazz's helm back so he could suck and lick one of those wonderfully sensitive sensor horns.

"Prowl." His lover's pleasure uttered as a cry as Jazz quickly gave up trying to figure out which pleasure was coming from where and just accepted the waves of sensations rolling through his frame.

The sensation to his sensory horns was usually enough to melt him into a puddle. Prowl's attention to his spike or valve was something that he had learned to enjoy very much. All three together was almost more than he could process.

"Yes," Prowl moaned deeply around the sensor horn as his frame worked Jazz's, their fields fully meshed to share the bliss Jazz had come to accept and understand was part of any time Prowl touched him with arousal. It hadn't washed away the vorns of abuse he'd suffered, but it had created a very firm exception in his processors under the designation of Prowl. "So good."

Attention and desire focused on him, on his pleasure was enough to push Jazz to the edge and beyond far faster than normal. Charge rippled over him in waves, fueled by the duel overload that gripped his frame, valve clamping down around the thick spike stretching it as his spike jerked in Prowl's grasp and spilled thick, charge-heavy transfluid on Prowl's fingers and the berth under them.

A shudder and moan came from Prowl as he began to drive his hips into the intense pleasure of an overloading valve. After only a few more thrusts his back arched, throwing his helm up and back with a reverberating roar and driving his spike in deep to pump his transfluid deep inside, rushing against the thick cluster of nodes at the very top of the valve.

Bliss echoed through meshed fields as the electricity dancing between their frames just seemed to prolong the pleasure, waves crashing through both mecha.

The charge left Jazz's frame trembling as he struggled to lock his joints against collapsing as it faded, but also had him groaning softly from the smaller charges still tickling at his frame. He gave no resistance as his lover guided him to his side and pulled him close.

"Glad you enjoyed," Prowl murmured, stroking Jazz's plating softly as they both calmed down.

"Very much so." Jazz answered just as softly as he snuggled closer to his lover, nuzzling at Prowl's neck and shoulder. He was quiet, field growing still as it often did when he was thinking. Finally he raised his helm and asked. "Still think you want me around long term?"

"Yes," Prowl said with the calm certainty that was so typical of him once he made a choice.

"Been thinking, looking. If I have the choice to do whatever I want," And his tone revealed just how novel of an idea that still was, "I figure I might we well do something I'll like. I may not be much of a hit here in Praxus, but I think I'd to be a musician. A singer."

A flicker of surprise passed through Prowl's field. "A singer," he repeated, almost tasting the term out. "Will you listen to advice from those who know the field well?"

"Best way to learn how to do it right." And if Jazz was going to take the time to learn to do something, he was going to learn to do it right.

"Good," Prowl nuzzled him into a tender kiss. "I will arrange for a good, honest review of your ability and current standard. Someone who will tell us the blunt truth, not placate us because we can pay well."

Thanks rippled through their joined fields as Jazz settled into the kiss more.

* * *

The music faded and Jazz focused his attention on his small audience. He had been a little surprised when Prowl told him that the Praxian wanted his lover to perform for a team of professionals that he knew, but Jazz had gone along willingly.

Now he waited for their evaluation of his skill.

Passacaglia, the dancer and far more socially warm of the pair, motioned him to join them at the small table. It was Prowl's pleased smile, small and subtle as it was, that kept Jazz's attention when he moved down to comply. If his lover was pleased it must be reasonably good news.

"How much formal training have you had?" Rubato demanded stuffily when Jazz sat down next to Prowl and accepted the cube of quality low grade.

"None." Jazz admitted, sipping at the cube and loosening the hold on his field enough so that it brushed against Prowl's. "I wasn't allowed before I came here."

"It shows," the professional singer told him. "For an untrained voice, you have an acceptable range and ability to remain on tune. You are very much lacking in basics. I would recommend attending the Performers' Guild school before attempting any more specific training."

"No dance or performance training either?" Passacaglia smiled at him.

"A little dance. I was commandeered to help with a cousin's dance lessons once, but they were all traditional formal ones." Jazz answered, not all surprised by the recommendation that he attend the school and pleased that they thought he was worth that much already.

The dancer nodded. "You would do well to attend the classes that the school offers before attempting to get a tutor. You have a natural sense of balance and flare that is suited to the more popular modern forms that I specialize in. You have a long way to go to be a _good_ performer, but I would say that you have enough potential that the guild school and further training in specific forms are worth the investment."

"Thank you." Jazz nodded, indicating that he understood what he was saying. It looked as though he would have to look into the guild school, and then speak with Prowl about the best way of presenting it to Prowl's creators, if they considered this a worthy trade-craft.

"If you survive the seven vorns the guild school demands and still love to perform, I know a few mecha who can polish your performance skills," Passacaglia offered. "You may love to do this as a hobby, or for fun. That does not always mean it is a good function. The joors are long, the pay nothing like you could make as your lover's apprentice. If it's in your spark though, it's worth it. You'll still love it, even when it's hard."

"A chance I'm willing to take." Jazz answered.

"Then I wish you luck," Passacaglia said as he stood, followed by Rubato. "Study hard. Put in the joors of practice you need. It's the best advice I can give you."

"Thank you for coming," Prowl inclined his helm as he stood to leave with them, though he remained outside the club entrance with Jazz as the performers drove away. "That went quite well."

Jazz nodded, still thinking over everything that had told them. "I want to try." He told Prowl, tone almost pleading.

"If the school accepts your application, it is a trade," Prowl was less enthusiastic. "They will accept it. Though do not be surprised if they are much more harsh about the realities of a low income and how difficult it is to make it."

Jazz stopped in his tracks and looked at his lover, not missing the shift in the Praxian's tone. "They might accept it. Will everyone else? Will you?"

Because there was a harsh reality to the entire scenario. He had already been looking before Prowl had brought in the professionals. Everything they said was true. The seven vorns would require much of Jazz's attention, time and energy. All of which until now had been centered on Prowl since his arrival. And even when he completed that, there was still the chance that Jazz might fail, or at least fail to make it big enough to support himself and contribute to the house.

Prowl drew him close and pressed a light kiss to his forehelm. "Yes. Entertainment is a respected function. If this is what you truly want, I will support you in it."

"It'll take time. But I do." It was one of the very few things Jazz had ever wanted for himself, and was one that was so very close to being in his grasp. He wrapped his arms around his lover, holding him close. "And if I don't make it...I can always go into the trade business. So long as Smokescreen doesn't object."

"By then he'll know you well enough to like you," Prowl murmured, then a small quirk of his lips graced his features. "Sire will be pleased you've chosen such a time consuming school and profession. He's been most annoyed with how much time I've spent away from the office lately."

"I guess that is one way of getting his approval for it." Jazz replied, even though he had no desire to cause trouble.

"He'll approve of it because he agreed to," Prowl chuckled. "It is up to you to make the most of what he agreed to. If you are willing to put the work in, you'll have the backing to make it."

"Then I will have to work long and hard." Jazz said with a kiss. "But I will find time for you." He promised.

"And I for you," he returned the promise with a kiss of his own. "How much have you looked into the guild school?"

"Enough to know that everything they warned me of is true, between the joors and the demands that will be placed on me. I know that it is not cheap either." Jazz answered.

"It is not the most expensive or exclusive either," Prowl tapped Jazz's nose playfully before they began to walk towards the nearest public garden, arm in arm with his lover. "Even if it is one of the longer ones. I do not expect that to be an issue."

"It won't be." Jazz promised, stretching up to kiss the side of Prowl's helm, delight and hope bright in his field at the promise of the future and the mech at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The authors are only playing with their own twisted muses. Transformers belong to Hasbro. Fandom-side, check the [inspirations page](http://www.gatekat-fics.livejournal.com/290.html). We draw from a ton of amazing stories and authors you should read. 
> 
> What I'm calling _Rite of the Storm Flight_ came from a fic, probably under a different name, but I don't remember where or anything else about it.
> 
> Praxian frame (with 3 of 3 wing panels) [Prowl](http://alteride.deviantart.com/art/Commission-Resonance-Prowl-254774764) and [Jazz](http://tench.deviantart.com/art/Commissions-06-287783868)  
> Lockjaw belongs to [kusukitty](http://kusukitty.deviantart.com)  
> <http://kusukitty.deviantart.com/art/Guardian-334188338>
> 
> nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years; 
> 
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter


End file.
